In the Story of the Flood we are introduced to Indian marriage. Among
the Pimas it was a very simple affair. There was no ceremony
whatever. The lover usually selected a relative, who went with him to
the parents of the girl and asked the father to permit the lover to
marry her. Presents were seldom given unless a very old man desired
a young bride. The girl was consulted and her consent was essential,
her refusal final. If, however, all parties were satisfied, she went at
once with her husband as his wife. If either party became dissatisfied,
separation at once constituted divorce and either could leave the
other. A widow or divorced woman, if courted by another suitor, was
approached directly, with no intervention of relatives. Of course,
on these terms there were many separations, yet all accounts agree
that there was a good deal of fidelity and many life-long unions and
cases of strong affection.
Polygamy was not unknown.
Grossman says that the wife was the slave of the husband, but it
is difficult to see how a woman, free at any moment to divorce
herself without disgrace or coercion, could be properly regarded as
a slave. Certainly the men appear always to have done a large part
of the hard work, and as far as I could see the women were remarkably
equal and independent and respectfully treated, as such a system would
naturally bring about. A man would be a fool to ill-treat a woman,
whose love or services were valuable to him, if at any moment of
discontent she could leave him, perhaps for a rival. The chances are
that he would constantly endeavor to hold her allegiance by special
kindness and favors.
But today legal marriage is replacing the old system.
So far as I saw the Pimas were very harmonious and kindly in family
life.
The birds, gee-ee-sop and quotaveech, were pointed out to me by the
Pimas, and as near as I could tell quotaveech was Bendire's thrasher,
or perhaps the curve-bill thrasher. It has a very sweet but timid
song. I did not succeed in identifying gee-ee-sop, but find these
entries about him in my journal: "Aug. 5--I saw a little bird which
I suppose to be a gee-ee-sop in a mezquite today, smaller and more
slender than a vireo, but like one in action, but the tail longer and
carried more like a brown thrasher, nearly white below, dark, leaden
gray above, top of head and tail black." Again on Sept. 1: "What a
dear little bird the gee-ee-sop is! Two of them in the oas-juh-wert-pot
tree were looking at me a few minutes back. Dark slate-blue above and
nearly white below, with beady black eyes and black, lively tails,
tipped with white, they are very pretty, tame and confiding."
The faith of the Aw-aw-tam in witchcraft appears first in this story
and afterwards is conspicuous in nearly all. Almost all diseases
they supposed were caused by bewitching, and it was the chief
business of the medicine-men to find out who or what had caused the
bewitching. Sometimes people were accused and murders followed. This
was the darkest spot in Piman life. Generally, however, some animal or
inanimate object was identified. Grossman's account in the Smithsonian
Report for 1871 is interesting. In the stories, however, witchcraft
appears usually as the ability of the mahkai to work transformations
in himself or others, in true old fairy-tale style.
Superstition Mountain derives its name from this story. It is a
very beautiful and impressive mountain, with terraces of cliffs,
marking perhaps the successive pausing places of the fugitives, and
the huddled rocks on the top represent their petrified forms. Some
of the older Indians still fear to go up into this mountain, lest a
like fate befall them.
What beautiful poetic touches are the wetting of the woodpecker's tail,
and the singing of the little birds to subdue the angry waters.
The resemblances to Genesis will of course be noted by all in these
two first stories. Yet after all they are few and slight in any matter
of detail.
In Ee-ee-toy's serpents, that pushed back the waters, there is a
strong reminder of the Norse Midgard Serpent.
The making of the dolls in this story is one of the prettiest and
most amusing spots in the traditions.
The waste and perspiration of Juhwerta Mahkai's skin again comes into
play, but this time as a malign force instead of a beneficent one. It
would also appear from this that the more intelligent Pimas had a
glimmering of the fact that there were other causes than witchcraft
for disease.
I have generally used the word Aw-aw-tam (Good People, or People of
Peace) as synonymous with Pima, but it is sometimes used to embrace
all Indians of the Piman stock and may be so understood in this story.
And perhaps this is as good a place as any to say a few descriptive
words about these Pimas of Arizona, and their allies, who have from
prehistoric times inhabited what the old Spanish historian, Clavigero,
called "Pimeria," that is, the valleys of the Gila and Salt Rivers.
Their faces seemed to me to be of almost Caucasian regularity and
rather of an English or Dutch cast, that is rather heavily moulded. The
forehead is vertical and inclined to be square; and the chin, broad,
heavy and full, comes out well to its line. The nose is straight,
or a little irregular, or rounded, at the end, but not often very
aquiline, never flat or wide-nostriled. The mouth is large but well
shaped, with short, white, remarkably even teeth, seldom showing any
canine projection. The whole face is a little heavy and square, but
the cheek bones are not especially prominent. The eyes are level, frank
and direct in glance, with long lashes and strong black brows. In the
babies a slight uptilt to the eye is sometimes seen, like a Japanese,
which indeed the babies suggest. The head of almost all adults is
well-balanced and finely poised on a good neck.
Another type possesses more of what we call the Indian feature. The
forehead retreats somewhat, so does the chin, while the upper lip
is larger, longer, more convex and the nose, above is more aquiline,
with wider nostrils. Consequently this face in profile is more convex
thruout. The cheek-bones are much more prominent, too, and the head
not generally so well-balanced and proportional.
While I have seen no striking beauty I believe the average good looks
is greater than among white men, taken as they come.
The women as a rule, however, do not carry themselves gracefully, are
apt to be too broad, fat and dumpy in figure, with too large waists,
and often loose, ungracefully-moving hips. This deformity of the hips,
for it almost amounts to that, I observe among Italian peasant women,
too, and some negresses, and, I take it, is caused by carrying too
heavy loads on the head at too early an age. There seems to be a
settling down of the body into the pelvis, with a loose alternate
motion of the hips. There are exceptions, of course, and I have seen
those of stately figure and fine carriage. Sometimes the loose-hip
motion appears in a man.
A slight tattooing appears on almost all Pima faces not of the last
generation. In the women this consists of two blue lines running down
from each corner of the mouth, under the chin, crossing, at the start,
the lower lip, and a single blue line running back from the outer
angle of each eye to the hair.
In the men it is usually a single zigzag blue line across the forehead.
The pigment used is charcoal.
The men are generally erect and of good figure, with good chests and
rather heavy shoulders, the legs often a little bowed. Strange to say
I never saw one who walked "pigeon-toed." All turned the toes out like
white men. The hands are often small and almost always well-shaped; and
the feet of good shape, too, not over large, with a well-arched instep.
Emory and his comrades found the Pimas wearing a kind of breech-cloth
and a cotton serape only for garments; the women wearing only a
serape tied around the waist and falling to the knee, being otherwise
nude. Today the average male Pima dresses like a white workman, in hat,
shirt, trousers and perhaps shoes, and his wife or daughter wears a
single print gown, rather loose at the waist and ruffled at the bottom,
which reaches only to the ankles. Both sexes are commonly barefooted,
but the old sandals, once universal, are still often seen. These
gah-kai-gey-aht-kum-soosk, or string-shoes, as the word means, were
made in several different ways, and often projected somewhat around
the foot as a protection against the frequent and formidable thorns
of the country.
Sometimes a wilder or older Indian will be seen, even now, with only
a breech-cloth on, and some apology for a garment on his shoulders.
The skin is often of a very beautiful rich red-bronze tint, or perhaps
more like old mahogany.
Except the tattooing both sexes are remarkable for their almost
entire absense of any marked adornment or ornament of person. Even a
finger-ring, or a ribbon on the hair, is not common, and the profuse
bead-work and embroidery of the other tribes is never seen.
The exceedingly thick and intensely black hair was formerly worn
very long, even to the waist, being banged off just over the eyes
of the women and over the eyes and ears of the men and allowed to
hang perfectly loose. But the women seldom wore as long hair as
the men. This long hair is still sometimes seen and is exceedingly
picturesque, especially on horseback, and it is a great pity so
sightly a fashion should ever die out. I have seen Maricopas roll
theirs in ringlets. Sometimes the men braided the hair into a cue,
or looped up the ends with a fillet. But the Government discourages
long and loose hair, and now most men cut it short, and women part
theirs and braid it. Like all Indians, the men have scant beards,
and the few whiskers that grow are shaved clean or resolutely pinched
off with an old knife or pulled out by tweezers.
Their hair appears to turn gray as early as ours, tho I saw no baldness
except on one individual. In old times (and even now to some extent)
the hair was dressed with a mixture of mud and mezquite gum, at times,
which was left on long enough for the desired effect and then thoroly
washed off. This cleansed it and made it glossy and the gum dyed the
gray hair quite a lasting, jet black, tho several applications might
be needed.
Women still carry their ollas and other burdens on their heads and
are exceedingly strong and expert in the art, balancing great and
awkward weights with admirable dexterity.
The convenient and even beautiful gyih-haw (a word very difficult to
pronounce correctly), or burden basket, of the old time Pima woman,
seems to have entirely disappeared. It was not only picturesque,
but an exceedingly useful utensil.
The wawl-kote, or carrying-cradle for the baby, is obsolete, too,
now. Strange to say, tho in shape like most pappoose-cradles, it
was carried poised on the head, instead of slung on the back in the
usual way.
The Pimas are fond of conversation and often come together in the
evening and have long talks. Their voices are low, rapid, soft and
very pleasant and they laugh, smile and joke a great deal. They are
remarkable for calmness and evenness of temper and the expression of
the face is nearly always intelligent, frank, and good-natured.
They are noticeably devoid of hurry, worry, irritability or
nervousness.
Unlike most Indians these have not been removed from the soil of their
fathers and, indeed, such an act would have been cruelly unjust, for,
true to their name, the Pimas have maintained an unbroken peace with
the whites.
Lieutenant Colonel W. H. Emory, of "The Army of the West," who visited
them in 1846, was perhaps the first American to observe and describe
these people. He says: "Both nations (Pimas and Maricopas) cherished an
aversion to war and a profound attachment to all the peaceful pursuits
of life. This predilection arose from no incapacity for war, for they
were at all times able and willing to keep the Apaches, whose hands
are raised against all other people, at a respectful distance, and
prevent depredations by those mountain robbers who held Chihuahua,
Sonora and a part of Durango in a condition approaching almost to
tributary provinces."
As observed by Emory and the other officers of the "Army of the West"
they were an agricultural people raising at that time "cotton, wheat,
maize, beans, pumpkins and water melons." I found them raising all
these in 1903, except cotton, and I think he might have added to his
list, peppers, gourds, tobacco and the pea called cah-lay-vahs.
Emory says: "We were at once impressed with the beauty, order,
and disposition of the arrangements made for irrigating the land
... the fields are subdivided by ridges of earth into rectangles of
about 200x100 feet, for the convenience of irrigating. The fences
are of sticks, matted with willow and mezquite." I found this still
comparatively correct. The fields are still irrigated by acequias
or ditches from the Gila, and still fenced by forks of trees set
closely in the ground and reinforced with branches of thorn or barbed
wire. Some of these fences with their antler-like effect of tops are
very picturesque.
From the description given by Emory, and Captain A. R. Johnson of the
same army, of their kees or winter lodges, they were essentially the
same as I found some of them still inhabiting. There is the following
entry in my journal: "I have been examining the old kee next door,
since the old couple left it. It is quite neatly and systematically
made. Four large forks are set in the ground, and these support
a square of large poles, covered with other poles, arrow-weeds,
chaff and earth, for the roof. The walls are a neat arrangement of
small saplings, about 10 inches apart curving up from the ground on
a bending slant to the roof, so that the whole structure comes to
resemble a turtle-shell or rather an inverted bowl. These side sticks
are connected by three lines of smaller sticks tied across them with
withes, all the way around the kee. Against these arrow-weeds are
stood, closely and neatly, tops down (perhaps thatched on) and kept in
place by three more lines of small sticks, bound on and corresponding
to those within. Then the whole structure is plastered over with adobe
mud till rain-proof. No window, and only one small door, about 2-1/2
feet square, closed by a slat-work."
This kee of the Pima was not to his credit. The most friendly must
admit it dirty, uncomfortable and unpicturesque. It was too low to
stand erect in, the little fire was made in the center, the smoke
escaping at last from the low doorway after trying everywhere else
and festooning the ceiling with soot.
The establishment of the Pima was most simple. He sat, ate and
slept on the earth, consequently a few mats and blankets, baskets,
bowls and pots included his furniture. A large earthen olla, called
by the Pimas hah-ah, stood in a triple fork under the shade of the
vachtoe and being porous enough to permit a slight evaporation kept
the drinking water cool.
The arbor-shed or vachtoe pertains to almost every Piman home
and consists of a flat roof of poles and arrow-weeds supported
by stout forks. Sometimes earth is added to the roof to keep off
rain. Sometimes the sides are enclosed with a rude wattle work of
weeds and bushes, making a grateful shade, admitting air freely;
screening those within from view, while permitting vision from within
outward in any direction. Sometimes this screen of weeds and bushes,
in a circular form, was made without any roof and was then called
an o-num. Sometimes after the vachtoe had been inclosed with wattle
work the whole structure was plastered over with adobe mud and then
became a caws-seen, or storehouse. All these structures were used
at times as habitations, but now the Pima is coming more and more to
the white man's adobe cottage as a house and home. But the vachtoe,
attached or detached, is still a feature of almost every homestead.
Under the vachtoe usually stood the metate, or mill (called by the
Pimas mah-choot) which was a large flat or concave stone, below,
across which was rubbed an oblong, narrow stone (vee-it-kote),
above, to grind the corn or wheat. Other important utensils were a
vatchee-ho, or wooden trough, for mixing, and a chee-o-pah, or mortar,
of wood or stone, for crushing things with a pestle. The nah-dah-kote,
or fire-place, was an affair of stones and adobe mud to support the
earthern pots for cooking or to support the earthern plates on which
the thin cakes of corn or wheat meal were baked. These were what the
Mexicans call tortillas. Perhaps the staple food of the Pima even
more than corn (hohn) or wheat (payl-koon) is frijole beans--these
of two kinds, the white (bah-fih), the brown (mohn). A sort of meal
made of parched corn or wheat; ground on the mahchoot and eaten, or
perhaps one might say drank, with water and brown sugar (pano-che)
was the famous pinole, the food carried on war trips when nutrition,
lightness of weight and smallness of bulk were all desired. It has a
remarkable power to cool and quench thirst. Taw-mahls, or corn-cakes
of ground green corn, wrapped in husks and roasted in the ashes,
or boiled, were also favorites. Peppers (kaw-aw-kull) were a good
deal used for seasoning and relishes.
Today the country of the Pima is very destitute of large game but he
adds to the above bill of fare all the small game, especially rabbits,
quail and doves, that he can kill. In the old days when the Gila always
had water it held fine fish and the Indians caught them with their
hands or swept them up on the banks by long chains of willow hurdles
or faggots, carried around the fish by waders. I could not learn that
they ever had any true fish-nets or fish-hooks; nor any rafts, canoes
or other boats. But owing to the frequent necessity of crossing the
treacherous Gila the men, and many of the women, were good swimmers.
The Toe-hawn-awh Aw-aw-tam, or Papagoes, whose reservation is in
Pima County, near Tucson (and called St. Xavier) are counted "blood
brothers" of the Pimas, speak essentially the same language, are on
the most cordial terms with them, and are under the same agency.
The Maricopas are a refugee tribe, related to the Yumas, who
once threatened them with extermination because of an inter-tribal
feud. They were adopted by the Pimas and protected by them, and have
ever since lived with them as one people, having however a different
language, identical with that of the Yumas.
The Quojatas are a small tribe, of the Piman stock, living south of
the Casa Grande.
The total number of Pimas, Papagoes and Maricopas in the U. S. is
now estimated at about 8000, the Pimas alone as 4000.
I am not a linguist, or a philologist, and my time was short with
these people, and I did not go to any extent into their language,
or study its grammar. Their voices were soft and pleasant, and I
was continually surprised at the low tones in which they generally
conversed and the quickness with which they heard. But their words
were most awkward to my tongue. There were German sounds, and French
sounds, too, I would say, in their language, and there were letters
that seemed to disappear as they uttered them, or never to come really
forth, and syllables that were swallowed like spoonfuls of hot soup.
But I trust that I am substantially correct in the words that I have
retained in the stories and that I have written them so that the
English reader can pronounce them in a way to be understood.
The accent is generally on the first syllable.